Emma gave me a shrimp, telling me to eat more.

Erasmo knew I was allergic to seafood, and he had told his parents.

So, she was doing this on purpose.

When I hesitated to pick up the shrimp, Erasmo nudged me.

He whispered, "My mom gave it to you, just eat it. Why are you being so difficult?"

I said, "Sorry, I'm allergic to seafood. I can't eat it."

Emma stared at me like I'd committed some terrible crime.

Erasmo furrowed his brow.

He whispered angrily, "It's just an allergy. Eat it already. Everyone's watching."

I refused, "No, I can't. I had shrimp once as a kid, had a severe reaction, couldn't breathe, and had to be rushed to the hospital."

Erasmo's face turned red with anger.

He snapped, "It's just a shrimp. Why are you so dramatic? Are you gonna die?"

I remembered that hospital visit. I could have died.

The doctor said I was lucky to get there in time. Otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable. He said I could never eat seafood again.

Erasmo's attitude made me feel cold. I didn't know why my usually gentle and considerate boyfriend acted so differently around his family.

Maybe it was the smell of the seafood, but I suddenly felt nauseous.

Emma watched me intently.

Then, she pulled Erasmo aside, and they whispered for a while.

I sipped some water and felt a little better.

Emma came over with a woman whose face was covered in freckles.

Emma said, "Lisa, take a look. Do you think Madeline is pregnant?"

Erasmo leaned over.

He whispered in my ear, "Lisa was a doctor in our village for a few years. Her medicinal skills are great. She can tell if you're pregnant or not."

Lisa closed her eyes and touched my wrist.

Then she confidently told Emma, "Congratulations, she's pregnant."

Emma was ecstatic.

She enthused, "Great. Can you tell if it's a boy or a girl?"

They whispered mysteriously on the side, not even bothering to ask me.

But I was confused. How could I be pregnant when we'd always used protection?

I looked at Erasmo suspiciously. He hugged me, full of excitement.

He said, "Madeline, this is amazing. I'm gonna be a dad."

I pushed him away, puzzled.

I said, "Don't rush to celebrate yet. I'm not ready to be a mom. Didn't we agree to wait a few years before having kids? And we've always been careful, so how could I be pregnant?"

Erasmo touched his nose, looking a bit guilty.

He mumbled, "Well, maybe it was an accident.

"But since it happened, it means we're meant to have this baby, right? Madeline, this is great news."

I didn't think much of it. What was done was done.

But what happened earlier still bothered me.

I couldn't help but ask him coldly, "Erasmo, you knew I was allergic to seafood, yet you pushed me to eat it. What's going on? Is your family trying to control me?"

Erasmo returned to his usual self.

He gently coaxed me, "Madeline, they didn't mean to. They just forgot, and they're my parents after all. I couldn't contradict them, right?"

Seeing his pitiful face, I softened.

Since I was pregnant and the engagement was tomorrow, I decided to let it go and nodded, forgiving him.

Little did I know, the engagement party would shatter my worldview.

The engagement party was at a hotel my family booked. Erasmo said it was their custom for the bride's family to handle it. The wedding would be the groom's family's responsibility.

At the party, my relatives barely filled one table.

Erasmo's family took up eight.

"Hmph, my daughter-in-law does all the housework. I scold her if she messes up. Emma, you're too soft," said the woman who'd checked my pulse before.

She was talking to Emma but eyeing me.

She was trying to put me in my place.

I thought, "If you're laying down rules, don't blame me for breaking them."

"Your daughter-in-law must be miserable. A young widow bullied by a nasty mother-in-law," I said, ignoring her fiery glare.

Then I turned to Emma.

I said, "Emma, don't be like that. We shouldn't be so cruel."

Another of their relatives tried to cause me trouble.

He said, "Emma's worked hard for years. Raising a son isn't easy. You should serve them well and do all the chores."

I glanced at the speaker, probably Erasmo's uncle.

My eyes swept over their relatives.

I said flatly, "Oh? Because raising a son is hard, the daughter-in-law should repay? What kind of logic is that?

"Maybe customs differ. Where I'm from, we call that a maid.

"Marriage isn't about hiring help. Housework isn't just for women."

I turned to Erasmo.

I said seriously, "If this is your family's attitude, maybe we shouldn't get engaged."

Erasmo tugged at my sleeve.

He whispered, "Madeline, don't take it to heart. They're country folk with old-fashioned ideas. Don't stoop to their level."

I'd put up with his family for our seven-year relationship. But my patience only made them more arrogant.